


Dear Diary

by Lieju



Category: Indiana Jones Series
Genre: F/F, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25386622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieju/pseuds/Lieju
Summary: Marion eyes the empty diary in front of her. Ever since she and Indiana came back from Egypt he has been busy with work and she has been stuck at home, bored.She picks up a pen.
Relationships: Marion Ravenwood/Willie Scott
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Dear Diary

Dear Diary.

I can't believe I am writing this. That's not true. I don't know.

I am tired. Tired after a hard day's work of doing nothing and I don't know what to write.

I made some chicken for dinner.

I think Indiana liked it.

Dear Diary.

You wouldn't know this, being a new diary- That's how I always thought of it when I was a little girl. That every diary was its own separate entity. That's who you are supposed to address, right?

'Dear Diary'. Actually I can't even think of where I heard that phrase. But I figured, as a child, that I was supposed to be talking to someone, and I talked to the diary (it wasn't like I had many other people to talk to) and once it was full I couldn't talk to that 'person' anymore.

There was one diary when I was nine years old, it starts out normal but at one point I start to use HUGE handwriting to fill it out fast so I can stop talking to this particular diary and then no one knows about it anymore. Then I can lock it away too and not talk about it.

Dear Diary.

I have made the decision to only write what happened here, every day. I have always kept a diary. When I was a child it was to invent friends for myself. I would take out my different diaries and put them in a circle and imagine them all talking amongst each other. I'd imagine stories and conflicts between them based on secrets. Would they notice? Compare notes?

They all had different personalities. The oldest one, naive like a child. I was very certain of myself then... A shaky uncertain one that had less in it, that remembered a funeral and how my mother was no longer there. One filled mostly with archaeological observations for the months or so I tried to take real interest in my father's work. I always imagined that diary spoke in his voice.

And then when I was stuck in that miserable hole middle of nowhere in Nepal I was bored. At first I wrote about the different people who would walk through the door. My observations. We got a lot of the regulars but they weren't as interesting. But occasionally we'd get travelers from countries I had never seen, they'd stick around for a bit and then be on their way.

And usually I'd never see them again. So I started writing about what I imagined they'd do afterwards.

And then I just started imagining things that would happen. That could happen. Maybe I was just bored.

I wrote one book, one diary, on what would happen if Indiana would walk through the door.

It's ridiculous. I was well into my 20's when I wrote it and it sounds like it's written by a child.

I only wrote about that in that one specific diary for a reason.

Easier to compartmentalize.

Well, it's burnt up now. Turns out when Indiana did walk through my door the following adventure was far more destructive than I had suspected.

I wish I had that diary now.

I think I would like to reread that childish fantasy.

I remember we got a dog and named it Henry.

I don't even like dogs.

Dear Diary

I keep hanging out at the house. I tried dusting the bookcase for the third time this week.

I want to get a job.

I don't think Indiana would mind.

He wouldn't oppose it I think.

I don't know what he thinks.

Dear Diary

I suppose I'm lucky

Dear Diary

It worked so well, when we were chasing after the Ark. I had his back and he had mine. I did trust him. I think... I think that I would trust him with my life. But I don't know if I could trust him with my happiness.

Isn't it weird that this relationship seems to work best when there's someone shooting at us?

Dear Diary

I don't think we have kissed in weeks. There is something he isn't telling me and I don't know what. It's not about me, I don't think. Maybe he is still bitter though. Over René Belloq. Could I have been happy with him? I don't know. But I wonder if Indy really only shows his feelings when there's an another man interested.

Dear Diary

A friend of Indy's came over. A 'friend'. Willie Scott. From the short introduction I gathered they had met a year ago. Apparently Indiana dragged Willie on some wild adventure through the jungle or something. Indy seemed very awkward. Pretty amusing really. I don't know if I should just play dumb and pretend it would never occur to me Indy and Willie slept together.

I don't know for sure but I think they did.

It should bother me more, I think.

Dear Diary

I have kept inviting Willie to come over. I think it's probably not proper but I'm bored and she's fun. We've been talking about a lot of things. She left home when she was young, went to Hollywood but had very little luck. That's how she puts it. Still, I think her having some minor roles in real movies and plays is impressive! Much more impressive than anything I ever achieved in life.

Willie told me about how she was in Shanghai working as a singer when she met Indiana.

I wonder if I should ask Indy about their relationship.

Dear Diary

I'm bored. Went for a walk.

Dear Diary

Willie is back in town. She asked to give me a makeover and we ended up going to the theatre she's working at and she ended up dressing me like some Versailles court lady with a huge wig and all.

I looked ridiculous but that was part of the fun.

She looked great even in the weird cheap viking helmet she found in the theatre.

I can see what Indy saw in her.

She invited us to see the play.

Dear Diary

It was nice to get out of the house. Willie is so talented, she disappeared in her role completely. I never did theatre but I wonder if I could. I think I could learn the lines, even if I wouldn't be as good as Willie, obviously. She commanded the whole stage. She is a star.

Dear Diary

I wonder what happened between Indy and Willie, exactly. Part of me wants to ask, maybe it would clear the air. Not that air needs clearing but-

Dear Diary

It's easy to imagine how it happened. Just the two of them, middle of nowhere- Maybe after a big fight against seemingly impossible odds, one of those things Indiana keeps dragging people into, he pulled Willie into safety and she looked at him and for the first time realized something. And Indiana looked at her and moved his hand to her hip to pull her closer and to taste her soft lips. Maybe she laughed? Not a mocking laugh but a quietly amused, happy, relieved. Maybe she'd make some comment about the state of her dress, maybe it was torn in action. She was unharmed, of course, but the way the dress hung on her now showed a little more bust than usual. She looked at him, as if challenging him to remark on it. And when he did move his hand to stroke the soft skin, moving his hand to the fabric, pulling it down to expose her perfect round breast-

Dear Diary

I think I am bothered by Indiana and Willie

Dear Diary

I tried to kiss him. They say married couples find themselves in this kind of a rut, that the relationship becomes less physical, more a companionship-

But we don't talk anymore.

I tried to kiss him.

But I don't think I want to.

Dear Diary

Would it be weird asking Willie about this-

Dear Diary

When she was sitting next to me she smelled so nice, and she would be so soft if I reached out to touch her.

Dear Diary

I think, theoretically, if I happened to see Willie naked, that would be okay, right? No it wouldn't be okay at all. I'm jealous. It makes sense I would be. She is so much more beautiful than I am. She'd only have to reach out and grab Indy from me if she wanted. He wouldn't be able to resist I'm sure. He would go willingly. Kiss her, take her to bed-

I think I hate her.

I will be gracious in my hatred, of course. I won't let pesky feelings like that get in the way of our friendship. I will support her in anyway. It's the right thing to do.

Dear Diary

I made a fool of myself.

I told Willie I would be fine with it if she went after Indiana. She laughed and told me she got everything she wanted from him.

I believe her. She could have any man she wanted.

Dear Diary

I keep thinking about-

Dear Diary

I think I would very much kiss Willie on the cheek. I was the only child growing up so having a sister would be nice, right? A friend, a companion. I have wondered what it would be like, having a sibling. I wonder, if people saw us walking together, arm in arm, if they would believe us sisters? It might be fun to pretend

Dear Diary

I did talk it over with Indiana and it all seems clearer now. I can't believe I ever thought I might be unhappy with him. It all makes such perfect sense. We work together so well. I trust him. I really do. He can be frustrating of course, but that's true of everyone sometimes. He proposed. We are going to get married. Maybe we will even have children. I would like that. Willie can be the godmother...

Everything has been so good lately.

Dear Diary

I don't know what to do.

Dear Diary

I lied. Things are still the same between me and Indiana. I made a promise for myself to only write what really happened here but I found myself wishing-

It would be such a good solution, wouldn't it? If Indiana and I could work.

But I don't think that's possible

I think I should

Dear Diary

For the longest time this, writing things down was the only way I could talk about... Anything-

I am going to try

Either Willie will hate me forever or-

Dear Diary

I will stop writing to you from now on. Putting some things on paper that have happened to me feels too dangerous. I want to preserve these moments but I don't think I can write about them anymore.

But I'm happy. I have- let's say I made a friend.

I'm moving out next week.


End file.
